


Christmastime is here...

by Mochi_MinMin



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mochi_MinMin/pseuds/Mochi_MinMin
Summary: Ciel and Sebastian struggle with what to get the other for Christmas.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 19





	Christmastime is here...

It stole in quietly, spreading throughout the land gently at first, and then with all the rage and power of a furious dragon. There was no escaping it; it seemed to catch one unawares, striking quickly and leaving them breathless at the surrounding crystalline beauty. Millions of delicate flakes blanketed the earth in London, driven by the icy breath of the North Wind. 

People of all ages were thrilled by the arrival of winter; it was welcome after the long, sweltering summer. The buildings of London seemed to grow closer and huddle together, as if sheltering themselves from the wind. They wore their gay festive garlands proudly, some clearly attempting to outdo others, as if it were a competition to see who could appear the most garish. Their frost-kissed windows glowed with the warmth of the cheery fires within them, the light casting shadows that bobbed and danced on the frigid, glittering carpet outside.

And the people that bustled to and fro among these showy structures, Londoners and foreigners alike, seemed to be drunk on cool peppermint air and warm gingerbread; the holiday cheer was as contagious as colds passed from stranger to stranger. Yes, it certainly seemed that all of London loved winter and getting into the spirit of Christmas.

All but one, that is… 

Ciel Phantomhive hated Christmas. He couldn’t count the number of times he asked (more like, ordered) Sebastian to chase away the carolers in front of his mansion. He was trying to sleep, for Christ’s sake! And they always sang the same old, annoying, catchy songs. If he heard another cheery fool wish him a cheery “Merry Christmas” again, he’d take their songbook and stuff it down their cheery throat.

And the snow! Filthy, disgusting stuff, especially when it turned to sloppy slush in the narrow streets. The cold and wet froze his feet and hands, crept in through his underclothes and burrowed into the bones of his thin frame, making him shiver and shake like the bare branches of the stark birches and maples in the nearby forests. No number of layers seemed to completely shut out the cold; only when he was tucked under layers of thick, soft down comforters did he feel warm enough. 

Besides the cold, all the paperwork he was expected to do always sky-rocketed during the holiday season. Mummies and daddies were buying lots of Funtom candies and toys for their little angels (brats, Ciel thought) and making Funtom’s revenue escalate as well. It wasn’t that Ciel didn’t like all the money he was raking in, it was just he really wished he didn’t have to go over all the figures and inventory that went with it. Of course, he thought about hiring someone to do it for him, but as he was a perfectionist and a bit of a miser, he only trusted himself to do it. And perhaps Sebastian; although he figured Sebastian could do it easily and honestly enough, he liked seeing all the money he was making, and got a sort of satisfaction in tallying all the numbers himself.

But besides the snow, and the cold, and the paperwork, there was something he hated much more: the loneliness. After his parents and brother passed, whenever any holidays rolled around, the hollowness left by their absence seemed to grow larger inside him. Christmas was the worst; the emptiness inside of him seemed to amplify until it grew large enough to swallow him whole. Every time he traveled to town and witnessed the mothers and fathers cradling their infants or holding tightly to the little hands of their tots as they bounced from store to store, the vacancy began gnawing at his insides, making itself known. The laughs of adults and giggles of children taunted him; something he would never know again.

On one particular occasion, he and Sebastian had been paying a visit to one of the Funtom stores, and Ciel had been adjusting one of the displays. Ciel had felt a small tug on the back of his cloak, and when he turned, a small, tear-stained face with shiny cerulean eyes looked up at him through a clean-cut ebony fringe. He stumbled back a pace in his surprise; the child looked almost exactly like he did at that age, save for the shock of sable hair.

Ciel had barely managed to squeak out a question when the child burst into tears and wailed something about losing his mummy and daddy. Ciel roughly pushed aside the despair threatening to engulf him and took the boy by the hand and helped him search for his parents. They had been easy enough to find; they were the only distraught people in the store. He had heard them before he had seen them; they had been crying, “Gale! Gale, where are you?!” He had supposed that was the boy’s name; it had unsettled him how alike in meaning he and the boy’s names were.

When he had returned Gale to his parents, they had whirled around, and again, Ceil had almost fallen over in shock. The father had had an impish, handsome face, his deep brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes; similar to that of his own late father. The mother had had flowing golden hair and her big sapphire eyes mirrored his own mother’s. And when he had thought his waking nightmare could not have gotten any worse, his gaze fell upon the sobbing toddler in the mother’s arms.

The toddler had been the exact image of the little boy he had found. As soon as the twins had laid eyes on each other, they had simultaneously stopped crying; the two halves of the whole had been restored to each other again. The mother and father had thanked him profusely, their tears of anguish turning into tears of joy. Ciel had smiled numbly at the praise; internally, he had been falling to pieces.

It had been a cruel, jarring reminder of everything he had lost. When he and Sebastian had gotten back to the mansion that day, Ciel had been even colder and more distant than usual for the rest of the day. But it had only been because he felt as though all the strategically placed tape and glue and adhesive that had been holding his shattered being together had dissolved all at once, and the pieces had been left to splinter and fracture into something irreparable. Ciel tried his best to bar that memory from surfacing ever again, but it always seemed to weasel its way into his mind around Christmastime. When that happened, he simply busied himself with other things and distracted himself until he forgot about it.

Today was the day before Christmas, Christmas Eve, and there was still plenty to be done in preparation for tomorrow. Of course, Sebastian had taken care of most things, like the shopping, and the cooking, and grateful declinations of invitations for various balls and parties for Ciel to place his stamp upon. Ciel was grateful for that, but he didn’t let it show. He simply thanked Sebastian and went on with his work. Sebastian knew how Ciel felt about him, anyway. No need to give the other servants something else to jabber on about.

Ciel was still in bed, sipping on the piping hot Earl Grey Sebastian had prepared for him. He had still been sleeping when Sebastian rudely threw open the bedroom curtains, as he had a nasty habit of doing. Sebastian had placed Ciel’s breakfast on a tray at his bedside and had merely bowed and left without a word. _Stupid demon_ , Ciel thought. _Now I have to dress myself; I have to do_ everything _!_

After Ciel finished the second blueberry scone on his plate, he grabbed his eyepatch and did his best to tie it on as tightly as Sebastian did, but he could feel the slight slack in the knot. He just hoped it wouldn’t fall off in front of the other servants; he’d have a lot of explaining to do for the Faustian mark on his eye.

As he struggled into the clothes Sebastian had selected for him, he reflected dully on the fact that he had yet to get Sebastian a present. He had gotten Mey-rin, Bard, Finny, and Tanaka each a fairly inexpensive but nice, gift; he had no idea what to give Sebastian. What does one exactly _give_ a demon that they can’t get already? Last year, he had given Sebastian an arrangement of Funtom sweets, and the demon had thanked Ciel warmly for it… but he hadn’t actually eaten any of them. Sebastian had said demons found souls to be much sweeter to the taste than candy, and he flashed Ciel his typical polite eye smile.

Ciel supposed he could always give Sebastian a special Christmas fuck, but he wanted to give Sebastian something he could treasure for more than one night. But what? Whatwhatwhat? Ciel went about his morning duties with the question still plaguing his mind. And then around midday the answer struck him like Sebastian was fond of striking Grell. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.


End file.
